He Can't Say No
by PixieKindOfCrazy
Summary: Set during the chase for the cure. Elijah and Katherine have teamed up to look for it. The show never said how Katherine found the tombstone, so why couldn't I Elijah be there when she found it? Kalijah smut. Sex on a desk. Yep.


**A/n:** _Oops, my hands wrote smut. And kalijah smut at that, whoopee. My favorite thing. Enjoy. Oh and as a sidenote, I don't entirely remember the plot of who had the tombstone and when so if my details are a little wrong, forgive me. Wow, kalijah sex would be what breaks my worst case of writer's block ever. Warning-this was not beta'd._

_"_

Katherine's POV

"You know, you're kinda cute when you're focusing. You scrunch up your eyebrows."

He turned his heavy gaze over to me in irritation, as I was aiming for him to, at my teasing comment. That man's eyes hold worlds inside. That's what others don't get; they see him as unfeeling, but he isn't. He feels, but he only expresses it in his eyes and honestly, I'm not sure he means to.

To many people, I'm sure his looks were intimidating, even terrifying, but I'm no longer afraid of Elijah Mikaelson. Oh I used to be, very scared of him. But I'd realized something recently- he will never kill me. No we'd come to a certain…understanding. We are far from touchy feely people and I wouldn't say we were a couple, but whether either of us voiced it or not, we both knew we cared for the other in some degree. After all, if he had wanted me dead, he would've let his bastard brother kill me the millions of times he's tried.

"I thought I stressed it perfectly well that you are never to refer to me as that in any context," his voice held a slight growl as he searched around the professor's office, his meticulous eyes scanning for every possible hiding spot.

"And I thought I made it perfectly clear that I rarely listen to you, 'Lijah," I couldn't help but smirk as his upper back muscles tensed, a clear sign of his impending annoyance. There was just something so addictive about setting off such a usually calm man. It's like making one of those guards at Buckingham palace crack a smile.

He mutes a sigh to himself as he goes to sit in Professor Shane's desk chair. Or at least, I think that's his name…pesky details.

"Oh yes, right. Your charming penchant to do anything possible to rile me up. You've discovered your calling. Now are you going to help me look for this blasted piece of rock or are you going to stand there smirking at me?"

I blinked once, a little thrown at the casual reminder of how well he's always been able to read me. I think that's, in part, why we avoided seeing each other for any extended amounts of time for the first few centuries. Neither of us likes being vulnerable, or having our motives known. But around each other, we cannot hide much…

I shook my head mentally to dislodge those irritatingly emotional thoughts and placed the smirk back on my face, the exact expression I knew turned him on, "Well….I _could _help you with that…but you see," I hesitated purposely while I mounted myself on the desk in front of him and alluringly crossed my legs. He likes a pretense of manners even when he knows I don't have any. Don't ask me why. Elijah is strange, "I could _also _help us both with something else."

"Oh?" he lifted both eyebrows, something he did often which was a sign that he was indulging me only out of his own misguided curiosity, "And I suppose this venture you're offering aid on is academic in purpose?"

I paused, my face dropping for a moment into an expression of 'Dear God, you slow man' until I understood that he was toying with me, trying to play me at my own game. Oh Elijah, rookie mistake.

I pursed my lips in mock contemplation and hid my grin, the effort of the action making one of my dimples appear, "Well…it could be academic, I suppose. If you're into that sort of thing…" _Which I know you are, _I thought deviously to myself. The sick bastard loves roleplay, especially my skimpy little nurse costume for some reason.

I could tell he was suppressing a chuckle as he answered next, actually looking a tad bit shocked. Shame on him; he should know me better by now. "Are you actually propositioning me in some random warlock's university office?"

I could feel an evil grins spreading wide over my face, eager to take this opportunity to mock him as much as possible. He wanted academic, so I will give him academic, "Given our statistical track record, you can understand how my tested hypothesis would be that you would say yes. You usually do, no matter variables like the location."

His jaw almost dropped all the way open before that laugh he was holding back escaped, "You are truly committing. Admirable, but didn't we have a purpose here besides defiling a random man's desk?"

"Come on, Eli, you know a desk is your favorite place to take me," I maneuvered myself off the desk and onto his lap in the desk chair, playing with his tie coyly and looking up at him with a look in my eyes that he once described as 'some kind of sick magic'.

And just like that, before two seconds had passed, I knew I had one. How did I come to his grand conclusion you may ask? It had a little to do with the way he growled and lifted me up to lay on my back on the desk and a lot to do with the way his lips moved over mine, a dance we had practiced a million times.

"So I guess this a yes to my offer?" I exhaled the question with the little breath he hadn't stolen from me, lulling my head back from our kiss.

His eyes locked onto mine, one of my favorite expressions in his eyes which showed clearly that he was feeling consumed, body and soul. He shook his head hopelessly and touched a hand lightly to my cheek, "I don't have the faintest idea how you do it, how you do this to me every time. It's as if I can't say no to you, Katerina. That's a very bad thing for a man like myself."

"Maybe it's not," I murmur as I kiss down his neck, sucking his skin between my teeth and rolling it to simulate the sensation of a bite without breaking the skin yet, "Maybe you need me in your life like this. I excite you, make you do things you'd never think of yourself and you always end up enjoying it. Admit it, kutchenste, you would be very, very bored without me."

Something in his eyes switched from lustful to tender when I used my favorite Bulgarian pet name for him. Ok, not pet name, that's vomit-inducing. It's my country's word for 'puppy'; I pinned it on him after the third time he tried to use his big, dumb, brown eyes to convince me to do something his way.

He smirked almost as wickedly as me- I may be rubbing off on him- as he caressed my side under my shirt, "Very dull, indeed, kotka. Ste tsvyat." (Very dull indeed, cat. You are color.)

A spark of electric shot to my core at his touch, a feat no other lover has been able to accomplish with me, as a pulse of something unnamed and slightly frightening tightened around my heart. Or whatever I have left in the vicinity of my chest cavity. Could be a black hole for all I know.

I rolled my eyes, attempting to play off the meaning hidden beneath his words, "You are mushy for a millennium old Original. Shut up and bring your lips down here."

I slid my arms around his neck, fingers entangling themselves in his hair as I pulled his head down to mine. I sliced my lips over his, sucking on his top lip as he nibbled at mine. I moaned as he slid his tongue past my lips to twist against mine. God, I always forget just how good at this he is until we do it again. The sensations are like chords of heat coiling in my stomach and a haze of fog wrapping around my sane thoughts.

A low rumbling sound reverberates through my chest before I realize it's him, making a sound of amused annoyance when I tug his hair. He likes the hair pulling. A lot. But he has this thing about me making him hard while he's trying to devour me, distracts him or something. He leans down over me on the desk, pressing his chest against mine while he lifts both my wrists above my head in his hands and locks them in place.

He slowly moves down my body, popping buttons off my expensive blouse as he goes, earning a protest from me despite my shivering, "That was Cavali. You're paying for it."

"Yes. As soon as you pay for the designer suit pants you ripped off of me last week."

_Damn it. _

I can feel his hot breath on my stomach before I notice his tongue swiping out over my belly button, dipping in the curve of my hip and up over my ribs. A pleased mewl leaves my lips before I give it permission, "If you're lost, I suggest going a little North."

I can practically feel his grin against my skin. Shame, I love to see his grin; it's so rare and sexy. But he listens to my not so subtle request, moving his mouth up my stomach, making little nips and licks, until he reaches the underside of my breast. He nibbles the flesh there for only a second before he drops his fangs and pierces my skin. I have to grip onto the desk beside me, crumbling a paper in my fist as I gasp; the bite sends tremors of tingling heat down into my stomach and shooting through my legs, "Fuck, Elijah…" I take a second to breathe, "Warn me."

He laughs deviously as he shakes his head, licking the blood off the wound, which I notice arouses him too if the hardness pressing into my leg means anything. He trails his lips up my breast until he reaches my nipple, swirling his tongue around the peak until it puckers for him. Only then does he take it into his mouth, sucking lightly and rolling it with his teeth. I almost cry out at the feeling, a warm, heavy ache centering in my lower stomach. He lifts his hand to take my neglected breast into his hand, kneading it and playing with the hardened bud on that one too.

A tingling sensation is building at my core as he works, making me squirm uncomfortably on the desk, my mind focused on one thing- what he would feel like inside me.

"Elijah," I groan unfocusedly, "God damn it, stop teasing me!"

He ignores me for one precarious moment, breaking the skin once more on the upper side of my breast, enjoying the aphrodisiac of my blood for a few moments before he pulls back.

When he looks at me, I feel weirdly unlike myself, my chest tight and hard to breathe through; his eyes are red and black veins line his handsome cheeks, drops of crimson dripping down both sides of his mouth. He's hauntingly gorgeous and I hate myself for being so affected.

But the moment doesn't last long; he gives me an uncharacteristically devilish smirk before he undoes the button on my jeans and peels them down off my legs, "If we weren't in a position where anyone could walk through that door, I would refuse you and take my time savoring your body."

"And I would find a very painful way to make sure you learned that it's wisest to do what I say in situations like this."

He arches one eyebrow and gives me one of those unsettling looks that for some reason we can communicate wordlessly through.

"No, don't give me that; I know you like pain, but I would find a way. Don't doubt that, buddy."

He shakes his head calmly, "Oh, I'm not your buddy, Katerina."

I get tired of the banter, too wound up to care, so I sit up slightly and unzip his fly, pushing his pants and boxers down below his scrumptious ass and pump his already hard shaft a few times. I can't help but grin as I relish in the deep moan that comes from the back of his throat while he pulses and swells in my hands, "Bloody hell, kotka."

He always reacts so strongly to me, whatever I do; I thrive on it. I look up, locking gazes with him bravely as I line him up with my center, nodding to tell him to do it already. The atmosphere changes to something serious that weighs on my chest, but also makes my head feel light as I take off my skirt and pull off my panties. Then he's pushing into me and the stretch is better than anything I can think of and he's looking at me like a lifeline. I can hardly breathe in the best way as he thrusts all the way in to the hilt. I feel heavy and full, it's burning deliciously and I just want to lay there for a moment and feel it, but then he starts moving and it's getting even better. I cry out when he groans, each other's names on our lips.

"Shit, Elijah, just like that! Oh god…"

"Mmm hell, Katerina, you feel so good…"

Every time we do this, the sensations are so intense I can't think, but they're bellied by some underlying emotions that thrill and terrify us and because we can't think in the midst of feeling them, we never remember them fully when we're done. It's always just the vague, but certain sense that something about what we're doing is important, and good, and…fuck, he's so good at this.

He's picked up his pace now, my hips pushing up to meet his and grind on him in circle before he pulls out and pushes back in, practically pounding me into the desk. The wood rubs against my back and I can tell I'm going to be sore, but it just makes it better.

As we both get closer, I can feel him growing harder and bigger somehow, pushing against my walls and I scream because I'm already sweating and god I can't take anymore of him or this feeling without combusting or splitting in two.

We come down from the high together and his forehead is rested against mine as we pant for breaths that are escaping us, even as immortal beings. I feel limp and boneless as he rolls off of me. He plays his fingers with mine and in the next moment, he's picked up my hand and is kissing it. I want to roll my eyes again at his old-fashioned ways, but despite the aura of violence and power around him, he was raised as an old century gentleman and the part of me that I thought died 500 years ago secretly likes that he does it.

"You know, he's going to know someone was in here now."

I laugh mindlessly because it's just so HIM to think about something logical after that, "It's probably the closest he has been to action in a while."

"…You are incredibly vulgar."

"Says the man who just had sex with me."

"I didn't say I disliked it about you."

"Good."

A smirk appears on his face before he reaches under me and pulls out a piece of paper with smeared black ink on it, "I'm pretty sure you have ink on your ass."

**A/n: **_Did I make Katherine's thoughts sound like Elijah? I feel like I wrote her monologues sounding very Elijah-esque. Oh well, I tried. My brain is just so used to Elijah's point of view. I love it. Sorry if this feels rushed; it was late and I wanted to sleep, but finish this. Weirdly, it came out more sentimental and poetic than I meant to. I was aiming for hot and wild at first…this will do. I am taking requests. :) _


End file.
